


Jetstar and the Kobra Kid

by deaddoh



Series: Pocket Universes [12]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Desert, Inspired by Welcome to Night Vale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddoh/pseuds/deaddoh
Summary: Jack has moved away from the Killjoys but is still heartbroken over their end.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin
Series: Pocket Universes [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1428589
Kudos: 2





	Jetstar and the Kobra Kid

**Author's Note:**

> ok look, this giant heap of stuff is ALL the way back from 2016 and oh-boy is this thing a hot mess, but i'm posting it anyways lmao

"Bad news from the zones tumbleweeds. It looks like Jetstar and the Cobra Kid had a clap with an exterminator, that went all Costa Rica and uh, got themselves ghosted. Dusted out on Route Guano. So it's time to hit the red line and upthrust the volume out there. Keep your boots tight and your guns close, and die with your mask on if you've got to. Here, is the traffic-"

Jack suddenly shuts off the radio and groans. Mark gives him an odd look, "What's wrong?" Mark asks, unsure why Jack sounded upset at the recent news of what became of Jetstar and the Cobra Kid.

"They were kinda part of a group that I looked up to, called the Killjoys," Jack explains, plopping down on the hood of his branded car, making it bounce slightly. Mark nods, sitting down too.

"I actually used to be a member of their group," Jack admits, leaning back on the windshield and closing his eyes. Mark smiles, imagining a younger and more rebelliousJack hanging out with Jetstar, Kobra Kid, Good Luck, and Party Poison. Roaring down the desert terrain and avoiding BLND. Jack cracks his eyes open and smiles too, realizing that Mark is probably imagining him with the group.

"One of my favorite moments with them is when we had this shoot-out against these men in white suits and weird masks." Jack begins, closing his eyes and recalling what the scene looked like. "We were lined up. Shoulder-to-shoulder and hands ready to draw our guns," he explains, Mark too leaning back against the windshield.

"The main guy who was obviously in charge of the squad of four was his bald white dude in a suit." Jack depicts, remembering perfectly of what the men looked like and what transpired. "Then the dude in the suit pulled out his gun and pulled it up to his face and looked Party Poison straight in the eyes as if to challenge him and his power," Jack says, remembering the exhilaration he felt in that moment. "Then suddenly we were shooting," Jack says, his eyes unfocused and his mind reliving and remembering.

"I don’t really remember what happened after, but what I do remember is the main dude standing over Party Poison and telling him 'keep running' and shooting him in the shoulder," Jack says, his eyes focusing and mind returning.

"What happened after?" Mark asks, wanting to know what became of Party Poison.

Jack shrugs, suddenly nonchalant about the incident. "I don’t remember. Everything is kinda fuzzy after that. I only really remember saying to them that I'm gonna head off on my own, and them wishing me luck; telling me that I hope I find whatever I'm looking for." Jack says, leaning back against the windshield and staring at something far away.

\---

"Did you ever find what you were looking for?" Mark suddenly asks, breaking the silence in the car; driving somewhere. Jack looks over at him from across the dashboard, surprised. "I... think so?" Jack says, his statement more like a question. His attention returning to the road in front of him.

"You think?" Mark asks, slightly put off that Jack isn’t sure.

Jack shakes his head, "Yeah. I think I did," he says, still sounding unsure.

"Well? What did you find?" Mark asks, wondering if it has to do with simply being on his own.

Jack smiles and looks over at Mark again, "Well, I found you. Isn’t that worth something?" Jack asks, his smile wide.

Mark smiles too, "I suppose so, you're not bothered by my presence. You even have me as your boyfriend." Mark says, remembering the day Jack asked him to be his partner like it was yesterday.

Jack returns his gaze back to the road, "I said that I’m not sure because I couldn’t remember why I left the group, why I set off to be own my own," he says, thoughtful and quiet.

"Do you remember why?" Mark asks, wondering if he was destined to meet him.

"Not really. All that I can clearly recall is having this weird dream of this third-person point-of-view of a planet." Jack begins, worried that he'll sound like a crazy person. Mark hums, silently telling him to continue. "And the planet was just... spinning and the side I was looking at was dark and kinda foreboding but it gave me this feeling, this urge to go off on my own," he adds, wondering if Mark has had the same dream.

The car is silent, Mark is thinking and Jack is too.

The world outside is momentarily forgotten, just moving by in a blur of sunset orange sand.

\---

"There were huge black forests, jagged mountains, and deep turbulent oceans." Jack blurts, watching the campfire crackle and pop; embers shooting up into the night sky full of stars. Mark stares blankly for a moment, unsure of what Jack is talking about.

"Your dream?" Mark asks, the realization slapping him in the face.

Jack nods, closing his eyes and embracing the old dream, letting the feeling it gave him wash out of his mouth. "I didn’t know what it was. i still don’t know what it is."

Jack begins, opening his eyes to see that Mark is watching intently.

"I have no idea what caused it, what it meant," he says, suddenly feeling the planet over his head.

"What do you _think_ caused the dream?" Mark asks, shifting until his hand bumps Jack's. Jack intertwines their fingers, enjoying the shared warmth their hands create.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that after I remembered it, I was hit with the sudden feeling of _needing_ to move. To leave and never come back." Jack says, opening his eyes. Mark hums and stares up at the stars, his eyes glimmering like amber with something old and sad.

"Sometimes," Jack says, Mark's eyes jerking back to the slowly-dying fire in front of them.

"Sometimes, when I close my eyes I can feel the planet humming," he says, feeling Mark's fingers tighten with his own.

"Humming like it's alive. Like a car left running." Jack describes, leaning his head on Mark's shoulders. "In those moments, I feel like the planet exists. Looming

over me, like it's hung from a string." Jack adds, eyes tracing an old scar on Mark's neck; long and jagged, it runs from the bottom of his ear to the joint where his shoulders are. Mark can feel Jack's eyes on him, examining the storyless scar. He hums, the sound reverberating in Jack's head like an empty room. Mark absently throws a few dried grasses and cactus skeletons into the fire, wondering what it feels like to have that planet hanging over your head, hearing it hum.

\---

"Do you ever miss your old group?" Jack asks, the question innocent; as they trudge through a canyon looking for one of Mark's old contraptions. Mark shrugs, giving himself a moment before answering.

"A little. we were very close." Mark says as he stops to investigate an old scratch in the rock wall.

"We had our faults too," he adds after a moment of investigating. Mark moves on, trying his best to keep the memories of his last group from flooding his senses and head.

"Can you tell me anything?" Jack asks the question holding a lot more meaning than Jack knew, they continue in the canyon.

Mark hums, "Well, we were a group of five. Including me." Mark begins, feeling deja-vu course through him as he enters a different section of the canyon.

"We had this... youngster," Mark says as Jack takes a swig from his water bottle.

"He was seven years younger than us, he was but a child," Mark says, his voice hinted with sadness and age.

"We were scoping a place when my friend and I found him. He was alone and injured, cholla stuck to his arm and shoulder." Mark says, remembering with shocking clarity.

"We helped him remove the cholla and took him in. His trio abandoned him after..." Mark trails, as he sees an old marking on the ground.

"I'll pick up after we dig up this bad boy," Mark says, dropping to his knees and blowing off the dust to uncover a metal contraption.

\---

"Can you continue the story?" Jack asks as Mark shuts the car door. Mark nods, getting comfortable in the car's passenger seat.

"The youngster's name was Ethan." Mark begins, knowing-full-and-well that he skipped over Ethan's backstory. "When we brought him back to our camp the two women of the group loved him like their own child," he says, remembering how Amy and Kathryn helped Ethan break out of his shell.

"Soon he was one of us," Mark says, sounding a bit like a proud father. "Another member was a friend with me. Tyler." Mark says, remembering Tyler's face well.

"He and I set off from another group we were a part of," Mark adds, stealing a glance of Jack driving down the desert road.

"He was a good guy, good friend. 'Till the end." Mark adds with a sigh, a feeling of remorse settling over the air in the car.

"You don’t need to keep going," Jack says, his eyes on the road but mind with Mark. Jack can _feel_ the sadness emanating from Mark, the heaviness in the air reminding him of a make-shift funeral he's been to.

\---

"What does this thing do?" Jack asks as Mark hefts the thing out of the trunk. Mark grins, wide and bright.

"Well, it's a PCU," he tells Jack as he sets it gently onto a nearby rock.

"A PCU?" Jack wonders aloud, the acronym not clicking.

"A private communication unit," Mark explains as he opens a panel full of wires.

"Why was it buried out in the canyon?" Jack asks, watching intently as Mark unplugs a few wires and gently cleans them before plugging them back into their rightful socket. Jack moves on, unfazed that Mark didn’t answer.

"Did you make this?" Jack questions after a few minutes of him watching Mark. Mark nods, head now in the top of the PCU hands buried in something-or-another. Mark hums an affirmative sound, head, and hands busy.

"I made it with stolen equipment," Mark confirms, pulling his head out of the top and his hands from wherever they were. "The outside was from a BLND armored car," Mark says, rapping his knuckles against the dust-covered shell.

"The innards were taken from a BLND vending machine with a vend-a-hack," he continues as he smiles gently at it as it reflects the sun's light.

\---

"Can you tell me about one of the women in your group?" Jack asks as Mark fiddles with the PCU a week later. Mark nods, his hands working on loosening a side panel.

"One woman, Amy." Mark begins, pulling the now loose bolt from the panel. "She was a kind person. Always one to put others before herself," he describes as he pulls the panel away from the side to expose a mess of wire and several broken boards of technology.

"She was our caregiver basically." Mark continues, as Jack stares somewhere far away. "Can you tell me how she looked?" Jack asks, trying to imagine Amy-but to no avail. Mark hums, mentally pulling up an image of Amy.

"She had brown hair," he begins, Jack closing his eyes to imagine her. "Not too dark, not really light. It was a light shade of mahogany." Mark says, remembering her mess with it as they sat around the fire at night. "She was about my height. She had some muscle too, was a marathon runner." Mark adds, remembering her stretching before her morning run around their territory.

"She always had her first-aid kit on her along with a handgun. She never liked using it but she will if she had to."

Mark tells, watching Jack imagine her. "What happened?" Jack asks as he opens his eyes, his voice tender and soft. Mark sighs and shakes his head, the memory too painful.

\---

"Do you ever wonder why we're always moving?" Jack asks as Mark is driving them to the mailbox. Mark shrugs, turning right. "No. I’ve gotten used to moving all the time. Though, in essence, it's just more safe to keep moving." Mark explains as he watches the desert terrain fly by. Jack hums and turns to the passenger window.

\---

"What happened?" Jack whispers, his finger gently brushing over a long-forgotten on Mark's arm. Mark hums, relishing Jack's touch. "I was exploring our old territory when a trap fell from a tree." Mark begins, his hands taking Jack's into his own.

“It was old and weathered.” Mark describes, lacing his fingers with Jack’s.

“Kathryn was a genius with mechanics. She salvaged it, turned it into a cooking pan.” Jack nods, watching the fire shoot embers into the starry sky. 

\---

“Did you ever have a territory of your own? After you left?” Mark asks suddenly.

Jack looks out, “I did. With two other people.” Jack says, watching the sand fly by in a blur.

“Robin and Signe.”

Mark nods, gently placing his hand on Jack’s thigh. “It was small. But we made it home.”


End file.
